


A Loyal Knight and True

by schweet_heart



Series: Merlin Fic [96]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Banter, Canon Era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e10 The Moment of Truth, Flirting, Grief/Mourning, Humour, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Minor Character Death, Post-Magic Reveal, Protective Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 23:37:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13201008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: Canon AU. What if Arthur had known about Merlin's magic during s1x10? The real "moment of truth" they both deserved.





	A Loyal Knight and True

 

“Merlin.” 

 

Arthur’s voice was deceptively gentle, and Merlin flinched back from him out of instinct, not wanting to hear either comfort or condemnation from his lips right now. He didn’t move away, however, and Arthur seemed to take this as an invitation to sit down beside him on the log, bracing his hands against his knees and leaning into them. “I know he was your friend,” Arthur said, after a pause. “I’m sorry.”

 

Merlin shrugged one shoulder. He missed his friend with an ache that he knew would never quite disappear, but, after everything, it was Will’s lie which weighed most heavily on his mind. He had come so close to revealing himself to Arthur, only to be thwarted at the last moment by Will's unselfish act, and something like disappointment filled him along with the grief and guilt. He had wanted Arthur to know. He had wanted Arthur to yell at him and cuff him around the ear and rage and storm and then accept him anyway, for all that he was. And he had been _so close_ , so close to obtaining it that it hurt, in a strange way, to have that opportunity taken away from him.

 

“Merlin?” Arthur said again, and Merlin realised the prince had been speaking. “Are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

 

“Sorry,” Merlin said quickly. “I was distracted.”

 

Arthur sighed, but for once refrained from insulting his attention span. He bumped Merlin’s shoulder with his. “I know you’re upset,” he said, in a low voice. They were some distance from the others and half hidden out of sight, but he seemed anxious that no one should overhear. “But you have to realise what he did for you.”

 

“I—what?” Merlin’s blood ran cold. “What he did for me?”

 

“Covering for you,” Arthur said, matter-of-fact. “Pretending he was the one who conjured the dust storm, when all along it was you. He was a good man.”

 

“Arthur, I— ” Merlin stopped, eyes wide, unable to speak. “But you— ”

 

“Whatever you seem to think, _Mer_ lin, I’m not a complete imbecile. I figured out your secret ages ago. It wasn’t hard,” he added, cuffing Merlin around the back of the head. “Considering you’re _bloody obvious_ about it. Honestly, how have you survived this long?”

 

“Blind luck?” Merlin offered weakly, still reeling. “But you—why didn’t you _say_ anything?”

 

“And miss watching you bumble around like a fool trying to cover it up?” Arthur snorted. “Really, Merlin, you have little enough self-preservation instinct as it is. If it weren’t for me making excuses for you, you’d have been executed long since. I wasn’t about to give you any reason to _relax_.”

 

“Ass,” Merlin said, more out of reflex than irritation. He was still staring at Arthur in disbelief, trying to reconcile his memories of the past few months with the idea of a prince who knew his secret. It was remarkably difficult to do. “But when—I mean, how did you—?” He took a breath, and decided what the hell. “Aren’t you angry at me?”

 

Arthur looked over at the two girls, still roasting game over the campfire. Occasionally, one or the other of them would cast a furtive glance in their direction, but given that neither of them had so far attempted to drag the prince over to help, Merlin wouldn't have been surprised if they had bullied Arthur into coming to speak to him in the first place. 

 

“I’m going to say this once, and then we’re done with the subject for good, do you understand?” the prince said quietly, still not looking at Merlin. He must have seen Merlin’s nod out of the corner of his eye, however, or guessed at what his answer would be, because he barely paused a moment before continuing, “When I first figured it out, I was furious. You lied to me—right to my face—and worse than that you didn’t _trust_ me. Not the way I’ve trusted you.”

 

He took a deep breath, glancing down at his hands where they were picking at the bark of the log. Merlin stayed very still, barely breathing, his eyes trained on Arthur’s face.

 

“I suppose it’s understandable,” he said, “that you wouldn’t want to risk execution. And God knows, my father, if he found out…But I’m not my father.” Finally, he looked up, meeting Merlin’s gaze squarely. “And you have nothing to fear from me, as long as you remain in Camelot. But you must understand, I don’t know what will happen if this ever gets back to the king. When it comes to magic, my father doesn’t always listen to reason. I _need_ you to be more careful, Merlin.”

 

Merlin nodded, swallowing down hard on a welter of confusing emotions.

 

“I will be,” he promised. “I will, I swear, I just—Arthur, are you _sure_ — ”

 

“Of course I’m sure, idiot,” Arthur said sharply. “When have I ever given you the impression that I am in any way indecisive?”

 

“Never,” Merlin conceded, a small smile creeping onto his mouth. Arthur looked back at him, stern for a moment, then smirked a little.

 

“Good,” he said. He reached out and ruffled Merlin’s hair. “Don’t lie to me again, all right?”

 

“What about when I stop you from wedding one of the fair folk?” Merlin asked, feeling a little mischievous now that the worst was over. “Would you rather I lie to you then?”

 

“What?” Arthur looked flummoxed. “I didn’t—I would _never_ — _Mer_ lin, if this is your idea of a joke, so help me…” 

 

“Well, in all fairness to you, sire, she was rather pretty,” Merlin conceded, tapping his chin in mock thoughtfulness, and had to dart away when Arthur lunged for him, looking murderous and yet strangely delighted by this turn of events. 

 

“Take it back,” Arthur said, reaching out for Merlin’s shirt and missing by a hair’s breadth. “I demand you take it back at once.”

 

“Would you rather she had been ugly, my lord?”

 

“I’d rather she not exist at all.” Arthur pounced, and Merlin allowed himself to be caught and toppled to the ground. Somehow, Arthur contrived to fall largely underneath him, his greater bulk protecting Merlin from the worst of the fall. Merlin made a token attempt to escape, but gave up when the prince’s arms tightened around him. “You’re safe here, you know,” he murmured into Merlin’s ear. “With me. I’ll never give you up.”

 

“I know,” Merlin whispered back. Across the clearing, Gwen and Morgana had their heads bent close together as they stoked up the fire, carefully ignoring the two boys grappling in the dirt, and despite the pain of loss that still had him in its grip, Merlin felt a wave of calm and certainty wash over him. “Arthur, I know.”


End file.
